


Darling

by rowanismybae



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, F/M, Romantic Fluff, Sweet, Visions in dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:12:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowanismybae/pseuds/rowanismybae
Summary: It has been two and a half years since Feyre started having those dreams. Glimpses of a man on his daily routine, his friends or family. And since the very first one, she felt compelled to paint what she saw.





	Darling

**Author's Note:**

> What if instead of Rhys having dreams about Feyre, she was the one having dreams about him? A Moder AU that I enjoyed writing very much! My first Feysand fic, be kind to me! Enjoy and tell what you think!

It has been two and a half years since she started having those dreams. Glimpses of a man on his daily routine, his friends or family. And since the very first one, she felt compelled to paint what she saw. 

Feyre had a small studio that also worked as her apartment. It was mostly a studio because it only had two separate rooms: the main one where everything was (living room, kitchen, and bedroom) and the bathroom; she also had paintings everywhere, paint and brushes scattered all over the place and white canvas hanging on easels and mingled with clothes and furniture. Yes, Feyre was messy, but she was an artist with a very tight schedule and almost no time to clean up. And of course, she loved her messy apartment/studio. 

She worked in a friend’s gallery in the morning, had college classes in the afternoon and at night, she stayed home with her class assignments and her painting. She also helped her sisters when they asked for help with anything or went out with them just for fun. 

Feyre woke up early on Monday and it was unusual, since it was her day off, thanks to the newest dream. Thankfully, a white canvas was already set on the easel and her paints and brushes were already near. She got up and dressed only in her large sleeping shirt, she started to work on the image that was printed on her brain. 

She felt so intimate with that man now! She called him ‘Darling’ for some reason. She had at least 300 paintings of him. The images were always like she was seeing through his eyes, so she never saw his face, not even reflected on a mirror. She knew every detail of his hands, his signature black wristwatch and the style of clothing (always sober and expensive). She saw his friends (or family) and there was always a hand showing just to tell her it was him again, sneaking into her dreams. Today’s imagine was him helping a short woman clasp her necklace. She was turned backward, her hair was short and black and she was wearing a tin dress with a very deep cleavage on her back. Feyre felt the admiration and care on that image and she wondered who she was to him. 

She heard a knock on her door at noon and when she opened, her friend that owned the gallery was at the door.

“Fey, thank God I found you! We have a problem,” she said coming in the apartment. 

“What’s wrong May?” she asked while closing the door. 

“Remember the art expo we were doing on Saturday night?” Feyre nodded and suddenly sensed something was wrong because of the verb's past tense. “well, the artist backed down. He said he found a better place and will no longer use our space. The gallery needs this exhibit to grow and make other artists display their work with us. Without this exhibit, I may not have enough money to keep it! I was counting on it!! What will I do?” she dropped herself on Feyre’s bed. She knew the gallery was May’s life like art was hers. She came next to her friend and placed a gentle hand on her arm. 

“We can find another artist…” She started saying but her friends cut her off.

“There’s no one. Even in class, no one has enough artworks to display and even if I gathered them all from all students, it wouldn’t still be enough.” She stood up and rubbed her tired and stressed face and snorted. “For artists, our classmates and other students are pretty slow on their works” She lifted her head up and looked around.

“I can contact some of our teachers and see if they know someone knew in the art market and see if they want to display their work…” Feyre started to walk to her phone next to her newest painting and she heard her friend gasp. When she turned around, she saw her looking at her paintings with wide eyes and her chin was almost touching the floor.

“Feyre, what are these?” she gestured to the whole room. 

“Oh. Those are paintings I’ve been working on for almost three years now. I have dreams and I paint them.” She shrugged and went back to her phone looking for the teachers’ numbers. 

“Fey, they’re amazing!!! You have what, 200 paintings? How do you feel exhibiting them on Saturday?” She whipped her head back to her friend now. She couldn’t be serious, could she? 

“Look, I know it’s really personal and all, but I need this. And if you don’t help me, I can’t keep your job. So it’s a win-win. I help you sell these amazing paintings and we show the gallery to the world. What do you say?” she smiled and crossed her fingers with an expectant face and Feyre rolled her eyes releasing a sigh. 

“Fine. But don’t blame me if this turns out to be a dead end.” She squealed and hugged Feyre in excitement. 

The preparatives started and Feyre was going insane. She always thought her art exhibit was going to be years after she graduated, not before. Of course, no one knew her, but some important people would be at the gallery Saturday night and this could be the start of her career!

She named the collection ‘Dreams of my Darling’ and May loved it; she said it was personal and mysterious. Feyre worked on another piece on Wednesday: she dreamed he was flying, she only saw the figure of a man flying, his bat wings open in the air and the feeling of freedom and joy expressed in his body. Of course, it was his dream and somehow she saw it. Again, she never saw this man or his friends before, it could be a product of her fertile imagination and since it was a dream, he could have wings. She named the piece ‘flying darling’ and she knew that this one she would never sell. 

The ‘Flying Darling’ turned out to be the center of the exhibit; all the other paintings in different sizes and colors hanging around the gallery and next to the door was the main piece. They asked Elain -Feyre’s middle sister- to help them with few flower pieces around the gallery, so it could look more inviting and mysterious. 

Saturday came by quickly and Feyre was all nerves. Nesta - her older sister- helped her get dressed and also served her a drink before the others arrive at the gallery. They always had a hard relationship, but a few months after they lost their father, things turned out to be fine between them. Elain was still the glue that put them together, but now she didn’t have to try as harder as she did before. 

Some visitors started to arrive and Feyre was always pleased to talk to them, telling what inspired her paintings. 

She showed them the first work she did: a painting of her Darling holding an older woman’s face between his hands; she was gorgeous with her black hair, blue eyes, and untamed smile. Somehow, she felt like her Darling would look very similar to the woman and the painting expressed longing, love, and familiarity. She named it ‘Darling’s Angel’.

Some asked about the Golden Woman -another painting - with a gorgeous woman with a deep red dress smiling like her life was the happiest ever. Like the Darling's Angel, the image exhaled familiarity and love. She was holding his hand and running in front of him, she was glancing at him over her shoulder and smiling like she was the sun. 

Others asked about the other two males that showed on the paintings. With one - the taller with long black hair and a smug grin on his face - he was sparring. With the other -thinner, short hair and classic features - he was drinking. Both held love on the view and also joy. They felt like home. 

There was one that she particularly hated that was a success actually: the Red Hair. It barely showed anything but showed enough to understand what was going on. His hand was fisted on a red hair splattered on the pillow next to an ivory sweaty skin. This one held lust and something like anger? She didn’t know how to explain it. She also hated the painting because he was supposed to be her Darling and this dream showed her that even if he was real, he would never choose her. This painting was one of the firsts to be sold. 

She was talking to someone and her friend May was all smiles and sometimes winked at her or held up her glass. Both knew this was going extremely well. Feyre looked around and saw a small woman with black short hair standing in front of the painting she did on Monday. She couldn’t help the thought that they looked similar on their backs. Then the woman turned and walked straight to her. She might be tiny, but she exhaled superiority. She was using a gray dress with a ruby necklace, rings, and a bracelet.

“How did you get inspired to paint these?” she asked quietly gesturing around the room. Feyre was taken back with the fierceness of her voice but smiled and answered she dreamed about this man for almost three years now and she painted the dreams since the first one came to her. 

“So you do not know these people?” she asked reaching her phone on her purse. 

“No. I think they are a product of my own imagination, so I don’t get alone…” the woman smiled and asked if she could take pictures and she was buying on of the paintings. Feyre nodded and she left. Weird people.

An hour passed and the gallery got seriously crowded. Most of the paintings were sold and she received lots of compliments on her work. She went to get a glass of champagne and when she turned around, she saw a woman with blond hair that looked familiar. She tried to remember who she was; maybe a famous artist as well, a model or a designer… and she turned around. Feyre felt her body become a mess. This was the Golden Woman. She painted her! How could this be possible? 

And then the man with long hair came to her and he had the most amazing smile on his lips. Feyre started to look around and noticed that the short hair man was also there in front of his own painting!! Was she dreaming? How could they be real? 

“Feyre, tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing,” May asked and she only nodded. “I thought you said the weren’t real!” she poked Feyre’s ribs.

“I never saw them in person, I thought they were just my imagination… I - I don’t know what’s going on May.” she felt her head spin and her body was trembling. The Golden Woman saw her and smiled. She started to walk towards Feyre and she thought she was screwed. This woman was so going to sue her. 

“So you’re the artist! Oh, don’t look at me like I’m a ghost! Come with me, I’d like to introduce you to your other painting inspirations and I really want to know how the hell that happened.” She said smiling brightly like the sun locking elbows with Feyre dragging her near the others. Feyre started to sweat and no one seemed to notice that.

“So you’re the artist?” the large man said grinning and I shivered from the resemblance from the painting. “I must say I’m impressed. Looks like I’m looking in the mirror! I look as perfect as in real life!” he was staring at the painting in front of him again. 

The tiny one snorted. And the other man rolled his eyes. The blond ignored him and said “so tell us: how? I’m pretty sure we don’t know each other…” they all looked at her at the same time. 

“I -uh -” she cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders and took a steady breath. They were only ordinary people appreciating her work. “I started to have these dreams two and a half years ago and I felt an attachment to them and I started painting.” she shrugged and looked at them. “I feel like I know this man better than myself for some reason. He always showed up when I needed the most and helped me heal from my former relationship and then you were there too… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were real. I just assumed you were part of my imagination like he is.” They were smiling and the men were looking over her shoulder and she turned around. 

Standing in front of her was the most handsome man she ever met. He was tall, black hair, violet eyes and a delicious smile on his lips. He was wearing a black suit with a black T-shirt opened on the collar; his arms crossed over his chest. He looked familiar somehow and she instantly looked at the first painting she did with the older woman. She snapped her head back to him and he stepped closer and she looked at his hands and she froze.

She felt her jaw drop, her eyes go wide and she placed her shaking hand over her mouth. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and a sob escaped her mouth. He stepped closer and she saw his teary eyes; he placed a gentle hand -the hand with the black familiar watch - on her shoulder. 

“I don’t understand how this” he gestured to the room with his free hand “is possible, but - but I believe you. Some images are very private and they are just as I saw them. Even the emotions expressed are the same as I remember.” he paused and wiped the tears that were still falling. “Thank you.” 

She didn’t know if she was breathing. Was he thanking her? He was the one that helped her through her hard times always bringing him joy and love through his eyes… “I should be the one thanking you! You brought me joy at my hardest times and now because of you, I have a chance to show my work and sell it!”

“Well, these moments are all precious to me. Except…” he looked around and found her least favorite one: him with the red head woman. He sighed. “I hate that one, actually. Sorry,” he said with a pained look. 

Feyre laughed. “I hate it too… I always wondered if the hate I felt was because I was feeling it or because you did,” she confessed. They shared a laugh and then she realized something important. "I don't know your name," she said biting her bottom lip and his eyes went to her lips and then back to her eyes.

 "How do you used to call me?" He asked and she blushed. This was so embarrassing. "Don't even think of saying you don't have a name for me because no one can life with another person without knowing her name." She rolled her eyes at him. Yes, he was stubborn, but he was gorgeous.

 "I named you Daling." Her face turned bright red and he chuckled. The others on her back laughed loudly.

 "Ok, Rhys, from now on you're darling to me." The tall guy said. Rhys grunted. She loved the sound of his name on her head and she thought it was perfect.

 "Thanks, Cassian." He faced her again. "Well, my name is Rhysand. But you can call me Rhys. And you are Feyre, right?" She nodded and he offered his arm and asked for a private tour; she took his arm and they walked together, always telling him when she got it, what she felt and showing him her favorite ones. 

 "How did you find out about this?" She gestured to the gallery.

 "Well, Amren" he pointed towards the tiny one. "loves anything that is beautiful and valuable. She has art all over her apartment; that and jewelry. So she heard about this new artist and she likes to come check new artists so she can buy the best ones and when they get famous, she has a very expensive painting on her house." He shook his head in amusement. "So when she got here and saw us, she called and told us to come quick and no one says no to Amren." He shrugged and she nodded.

 "What are the other one's names?" Feyre asked.

 "You know Amren and Cassian right?" She nodded and they stopped. He pointed the other while he said "Morrigan, my cousin, and Azriel. He and Cassian were raised by my mother; she passed away almost three years ago. I guess it matches the time you started to see... well, me." He said and she whispered an 'I'm sorry' to him and he nodded. "I already bought that painting, you know. And I'd love to buy the big one at the door, but apparently, you decided to keep it." He poked her rib and she felt like they did this their whole life.

 "What can I say? I love it. Got attached." She smiled and asked, "This was a dream of yours?" He nodded. 

 "I always wanted to fly. And sometimes I dream that I am flying, but nothing like that one from a few nights before. That felt... freeing and it made me really happy." They paused and he looked deeply into her eyes before going on. "Will you go out on a date with me? Maybe after you’re done tonight? I feel like you know me better than I know you and it's not fair." He smiled.

She pondered before answering him. He was as amazing as she expected him to be - even more if she was being honest - and somehow fate, or destiny or God wanted them to meet, made it happen, so she had no doubt before answering "Of course." 

His smiled almost blinded her and she knew she could live like this: watching him smile, touching his skin and hearing the sound of his voice. She realized that for the first time in years, very long and hard years, she felt like home. 


End file.
